Barbara Brooks created Flamingo Strategies LLC to help clients stand up and stand out, through telling and sharing their stories of impact and purpose.
Hacking Away at Happiness is her blog.
Life choices aren’t just about what we want to do; they’re about who we want to be. So, it helps to know what matters to us most.
Reset the same goal over and over. Try new ones. Take breaks. We’re playing the ultimate long game. And with any luck, it won’t be over anytime soon.
If we keep singing or writing about something—and hoping for the truth in our words—then we can make them true. Love is the seventh wave, I say love.
Jim said it best: “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”
When learning new tricks, remember this: The simpler the task, the bigger the R.O.I. And there are few things more timeless or cool than the ukulele.
Our rush to respond—to be answer-ready at all times—is habitual. And we don’t even know we are doing it.
Whether we make art, or simply notice how light lands on surface, what matters most is where we place our frame.
Visual cues—combined with our overdeveloped sense of certainty—may cause us to miss what’s most important.
Every nonprofit should have a sustainable strategy for capturing stories of generosity and impact.
These days ahead are known as the Days of Awe. Because it’s awesome to do the right thing. Maybe even all year long.
I thought I was a solopreneur, but that’s not true. I think I’m a peoplepreneur.
We go about our lives completely unaware of our moment-to-moment absorption of nature's power.
As a professional teller of stories of generosity and impact, my only job is to empathize with the teller's emotions.
The rule I live by—Always Be Opening—is my own. We do not have to fight over a finite number of good leads.
Having left full-time employment to consult and write, I get to bake the time pie. And I get to slice it up.
Like the Greek nymph Echo, who loved the sound of her own voice, a storyteller who merely self promotes is destined to be ignored.
My anxiety was palpable when I explained negative cash flow. But when we played Risk Bingo, everything that could go wrong, did.
But after the silence we fear and the silence we want, there’s the silence we need. It's the “noble” silence of peace between our ears.
Existentially speaking, aren’t we all planning around—and planning for—obsolescence. The question, then, is what do we do about it?
Like the wild dingo dog that snatched an innocent baby in the Australian outback, I wondered if a pink Flamingo beast has somehow made off with my kid.
